


Ground Control (Quarantine Dreaming)

by manicmagicat



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Dancing, David Bowie - Freeform, Dragon Pox, Facetiming Mordelia, Family Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Quarantine, Romantic Fluff, Sharing Magic, Watford Eighth Year, listening to records, rebel rebel inspired, watching netflix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:47:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23652553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicmagicat/pseuds/manicmagicat
Summary: A dragon pox outbreak forces students into quarantine right in the middle of Simon and Baz's eighth year truce. Simon despairs at their lack of technology, but Baz reveals his hidden box with, among other things, a record player. Talking with family, Netflix, and dancing ensues.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 19
Kudos: 193





	Ground Control (Quarantine Dreaming)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [rebel rebel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15485421) by [BasicBathsheba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BasicBathsheba/pseuds/BasicBathsheba). 



> Okay first and foremost I need to give the biggest thank you ever to @deniseeeyy for making this readable. Like fr she is a genius and so patient and this would have been a mess without her.  
> Next off, this is inspired by the rebelverse but doesn't really take place within it. You don't need to have read it to understand this but if you haven't you definitely should!!

“Hello Mages of Watford. As many of you may have heard, after the recent interaction between the student body and a dragon, a bout of dragon pox has been spreading through the school. In order to control the disease, we will be going into quarantine. This order is effective immediately. Meals will be placed outside of your room and a bird will be sent to you daily with your coursework. Residents are not permitted to leave their room under any circumstances. Thank you.”

The Mage’s announcement is ringing in my ears as the room falls back into an uneasy silence. Baz had shot me a murderous glare as soon as the announcement started, and he isn’t letting up. I thought this truce was just starting to go somewhere, what with him helping me with the dragon and us sharing magic. Obviously we’re back to square one. There is no way Baz and I will be able to get along stuck in the tower together for Merlin knows how long.

I shove my face in my pillow, unsure whether from exasperation or to escape the heat of Baz’s resentment. It wasn’t my fault the bloody dragon came! I’ve no idea how the school somehow got dragon pox from this one, yet when I eviscerated that one first year and we all got covered in dragon ooze, we were perfectly healthy. I mean, as healthy as traumatized ickle first years can be after fighting a dragon. Nobody had dragon pox, anyway.

But here we are in quarantine. This was going to be a right disaster.

* * *

I really wish this lockdown had happened two years ago, back before the Mage banned technology. Then at least I still would’ve had my school laptop. I would’ve been able to message Penny. I would have something to do other than sit in bed and stare at Baz. I can tell he’s on edge, but he won’t talk to me. He won’t even look at me. He’s been reading all day since the announcement. The truce still seems to be in place though; he’s not being aggressive at least. There’s hope in that.

“Hey, Baz.”

He doesn’t look up from his book. A beat passes. Should I be doing this?

“Baz, come on. We’re going to be in here for Merlin knows how long. We don’t have any technology. We may as well talk.”

I’m never doing what I should be anyway. What difference does one more time make?

Baz lets out a long suffering sigh, like the dramatic git he is. It’s an acknowledgment though, so I’ll take it. I start to say something else, to keep trying to convince him, but he cuts me off.

“ _You_ don’t have any technology, Snow.”

“What? What are you saying?”

He just raises an eyebrow at me.

“I would have noticed if you had anything in here. We live together!” There's absolutely no way Baz could have anything. I’ve done my fair share of snooping on Baz’s side of the room and there’s only so many places you can hide things in this tiny room in the first place.

“I would show you, Snow, but you’d report me to the Mage.”

“I would not! We can swear it again if you like. Let me see!”

“Hm.”

“Please, Baz,” and that was apparently what he had been waiting for. Just like that, he props himself up in bed and tells me to go in his closet.

I feel my eyebrows pull together. I’ve looked through that closet very regularly for the past eight years. No way he’d have gotten something like this by me. I give a small huff of satisfaction as I root around the tiny closet and find absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. The floor of the closet is completely clear except for two pairs of shoes. There’s not much beyond that and his hung clothes and a rolled up poster tube that’s been there since second year.

I turn back to Baz with a smug look on my face, but his expression mirrors my own. He gives a lazy wave with his wand and mutters something, nodding for me to look again.

That bloody wanker. In the closet, clear as day, is a big cardboard box with a record player, laptop, and mobile, as well as a few other bits and bobs.

I turn to Baz, unable to hide my excitement.

“Baz! This is bloody brilliant!”

“So excited already? Are your mental facilities so insufficient that you were about to go mad from boredom after only a few hours? Sad, really.”

I just roll my eyes and lightly kick the post of his bed. I pick up the box and place it on his desk, carefully sorting through its contents. I pick up a phone - the newest iPhone, of course - right when it starts ringing. I bring the phone over to Baz, watching as the name ‘Mordelia’ continues to flash on the screen. I’m looking over his shoulder, so when he picks up the FaceTime call I’m in the frame with him.

“Baz!” There’s a little girl with dark black hair and big Billie Piper teeth on the screen. I’ve never been good with guessing kids ages, but I think she’s around 11. She must be Baz’s little sister, even though she doesn’t look as scary as him.

“Hi Mordy, what are you doing calling me? You know you’re not supposed to when I’m in school.”

“Well, I’ve heard the school’s got the plague and you’re all going to die. I figured I may as well give you one last ring.” Scratch my earlier statement, she seems just as morbid as Baz. The family relation is already shining through. Baz rolls his eyes at her.

“It’s not the plague, Mordelia, it’s just dragon pox. I’m not going to die.”

“If you do, I call your room.” She hums contentedly. She sounds perfectly happy, like she’d get a great deal either way. I’m watching Baz’s face on the screen, and he’s got a small smile on his face. He’s looking at her so fondly I almost feel like I’m intruding being here.

“Why’s the Chosen One with you?” she says, interrupting a moment that somehow seems to pass as soft for the Pitches.

Baz scrunches up his face in distaste. “He’s my roommate, Mordy, you know that. We’re quarantined in the tower together.”

She hums. “Are you going to kill him? Then you could keep all the chocolate in your room for yourself. Are they still bringing you chocolate? I don’t know what I’d do if they locked me away without any.”

“I’m not going to kill him,” Baz chuckles, “but I would most certainly kill anyone that tried to lock you away without any chocolate. I’d never let such torture befall you.” She giggles and they fall into easy conversation. I flop back onto my own bed trying to give them a bit of privacy. Baz isn’t who I expected him to be with his family. The fatalistic humour was expected, but I wasn’t anticipating the fondness. Or the fact that the morbid jokes weren’t directed at me. He even said he wouldn’t kill me. I suppose that should be expected, since we are on a truce right now. It was nice to hear anyway.

“Alright Snow, what shall we watch?” Baz asks after he’s finished his call with his sister. I look over and he’s pulling up Netflix on his laptop. I try to keep the dopey grin off of my face, but restraint has never been my strong suit.

* * *

I’ve been waiting to ask Baz to use the record player. It seems like the thing he’s most protective over, but it was also what I had been most excited when I found the box.

“Come on, Baz! Let’s listen to something!”

“Alright, Snow,” he agrees warily. He pulls himself out of bed and walks over to his closet, taking the box out. He places it on the desk and carefully removes the old burgundy record player. I come over to watch him set it up. I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet in anticipation. I wonder what Baz will put on. I scan over the records he’s put beside the player, drinking them in.

“Why are you so excited about this?” he says with a harsh snap. I’m kind of taken aback. I had stopped talking, I hadn’t been trying to annoy him this time. Since the truce, most of the bite has been removed from his words. I’m not sure what I've done to make it come back now, so I just tell the truth.

“We don’t get to listen to music much at the care homes. Managed to borrow this boy's music player a couple times one summer, before he found out and beat the snot out of me ‘course. And then after the Mage banned technology here, there was a lot less music here as well. I just love it and I, um, don’t get to listen to much.” I swallow and try to keep my breathing even. I don’t know if that was too much to say. But when I finally look up at Baz, he looks me in the eyes and nods. He goes back to fiddling with the player and pushes the records over to me.

“You pick, Snow.”

I’m not sure if this is pity; if Baz is even capable of feeling pity. But it feels like he’s just being decent and I really do want to choose, so I start flipping through the records. He’s got pretty good stuff: The Modern Lovers, The Talking Heads, Sonic Youth, T. Rex. It’s a solid collection. There's a few unexpected records mixed in, like Simon and Garfunkel. Some I even like (it’s the Billy Joel one, sue me) but I figure I’ll stick to something I know we both definitely like. In the end, I choose a Television record and tentatively hand it over to Baz.

“Marquee Moon. Good choice, Snow.” He sounds genuine. He’s got the record player propped on his chair now, which he's pulled to the middle of the room. He hits it with a spell to get the electricity going, then gently puts the record in place. The first few notes of ‘See No Evil’ light up the room. I’m grinning already. Baz lays down on the floor in the space between the player and his bed.

“Uh, why are you on the floor?” I ask. There’s a perfectly good bed right behind him.

“We’ve been in bed all day, Snow. Besides, listening to records is best when you’re on the floor.” It’s a perfectly good argument, so I lie down on my side of the room. He’s on his back, eyes closed. By the time we make it through the song, he has a small smile on his face. By the next one, he looks like he’s floating.

The room is still as the first notes of Marquee Moon come on, and I decide that I absolutely cannot let it remain that way. I start slow, tapping my feet. And then I scoot closer so that I can reach out and tap his feet with mine. The click of his oxfords against mine (we’d already been dressed before the announcement, and if Baz wasn’t taking his off, then neither was I) is much more satisfying than the muted taps of my shoes on carpet. Then I go in softly, murmuring ‘do do, do do’ and ‘dunnnunun, dunnnunun.’ Baz isn’t joining in yet, but I knew he’d take more encouragement. I can see him fighting to keep the corner of his lip from twitching up and I grin over at him. I push myself up onto my elbows. I start tossing my head around, curls flying every which way, singing along with the guitar riff.

“I remember, ooh how the darkness doubled,” I croon over at Baz, my hand balled up in a makeshift microphone in front of me. “I recall, lightning struck itself.” I scoot over so that I’m shoulder to shoulder with Baz.

“I was listening, listening to the rain,” I sing earnestly, painfully off-key and loud. I could do better, my voice actually isn’t too bad. But the goal right now isn’t to impress him, it’s to provoke him into joining me. He’s on his back with his knees folded up now, one resting on top of the other, foot dangling in the air. He's got his hand folded behind his head, and he’s smirking over at me. His foot is tracing along in arcs to the music.

“Come on, Baz, don’t just sit there,” I say, nudging my elbow into his side. He shoves at me with his foot but he’s still got that half smile on his face. He half sings, half hums along with the rest of the song and I don’t push him past that. He’s swaying his head and tapping his feet and humming along. I lower my voice and sing along with his gentle thrumming voice. We sit like that, shoulder to shoulder, until it's time to turn the record.

I don’t get up to turn it. I don’t know why. I just like being here with him, sharing the music. We share the same space all the time, we live in the same room after all. But when you’re in the music with someone, well it feels like we’re truly sharing the same space for the first time in a long time. Baz stays with me for a few breaths, but then he’s propping himself up.

“My turn to choose this time, then.” I think he would’ve let me pick again if I had gotten up first. But I want to see what Baz picks. I mean, I know they’re all his records so he obviously likes all of them. But I’m still curious which he’ll pick for now, for us.

He goes for David Bowie, because of course he does. I could see Baz in a denim jacket cover in The Velvet Underground patches, especially after I’ve seen him flipping through these records. He’d never sacrifice his posh clothes, though. The gentle first notes of Space Oddity ring through our room. My head is already bobbing along in time. Baz doesn’t make me sing first this time.

“Ground Control to Major Tom,” He huffs out, almost like he can’t believe he’s doing this in front of me. I’m not sure why I’m not sharing his feeling of wariness. It feels okay, when it’s just us in here with the music. I parrot the line back to him the second time around. We start the countdown together and when we get to seven and he’s still standing, I reach my hand up so I can join him. He pulls me up and I’m steady on my feet before we hit five.

“Check ignition and may God’s love be with you,” we sing together. Baz’s voice is still quiet, but mine is loud and goofy. He drops my hand as soon as I am on solid footing.

“This is Ground Control to Major Tom,” we both belt out, grinning at each other.

“And the papers want to know whose shirts you wear,” I sing at Baz, plucking at his perfectly starched shirt. He rolls his eyes and swats me off, but he’s still smiling.

I’m dancing around feeling truly limbless when we get to, “I’m floating in the most peculiar way.” I wonder if I’ve accidentally put magic into my words, if I really am floating through the stars. But then I reach out and touch Baz’s hand, spinning him recklessly, and I feel grounded again. I pull him in close to me.

“And the stars look very different today,” we sing in hushed tones. It’s happening again, how it happened right after the dragon. The room around us is swirling with stars. Baz's eyes are wide as he looks at me, looking at the vastness of space around us. My magic is humming between us and I think our feet might not be on the ground anymore.

“Planet Earth is blue and there’s nothing I can do,” Baz sings quietly, looking right into my eyes. We keep singing and swaying, holding on to each other for fear we might fall if we let go.

The last notes of the song fade out and we’re still here, floating together in space. I barely hear it as the next song begins to play. I can’t look at anything except Baz, grey eyes sparkling among the stars.

I pull him closer to me, afraid that I might float away. Baz is the only thing that’s real. He doesn’t pull away, and I run my thumb across his cheek. The lights around us are throwing his face into deep shadow. He still looks beautiful. I don’t stop to question the thought. I just lean into him and press my lips to his, pulling him impossibly closer to me. And then he’s kissing me back, and the magic isn’t the only reason I’m floating. Slowly, we begin to lower back to the ground and the stars begin to fade, but I keep him pressed close against me even as we touch back down. I’m never letting go, not now that I’ve got him.

**Author's Note:**

> Songs mentioned are-  
> See No Evil by Television  
> Marquee Moon by Television  
> Space Oddity by David Bowie
> 
> Also, thank you so much to @fandomsandmusic36 over on Tumblr for requesting this one!


End file.
